


All Who Are Hungry

by Ardatli



Series: Jewish Holidays (with Billy and Teddy) [2]
Category: Young Avengers
Genre: Brief mentions of canon character deaths and depression, Family Bonding, Fluff and Mush, Gen, Let's get some other holiday fic tropes up in here, M/M, Marvel 616 (Freeform), Pesach | Passover, Post - Children's Crusade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-28
Updated: 2016-04-28
Packaged: 2018-06-05 03:46:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6687952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ardatli/pseuds/Ardatli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Teddy and Tommy are staying at the Kaplans' place for now, but they haven't really considered the meaning of being adopted into a large Jewish family. ~A seder teaches them the true meaning of Pesach~ (Insert holiday cliche of your choice here).  Shenanigans, horseradish, matzah and fluff ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Who Are Hungry

**Author's Note:**

> Before leaving comments, please be aware that the author is Jewish. Like, very Jewish. Raised-modern-Orthodox / walk-to-shul / glatt-kosher kind of Ashkenazi Jewish, and this ficlet is a love letter to my favourite superheroes, for one of my favourite holidays. (Yes, I like Passover. I just don’t like matzah.) 
> 
> The riffs in here are made by an in-group member referencing some common experiences to portions of modern North American Jewry. If you’re not Jewish, this is not to be used as permission to make the same kind of fun of us as we do of each other, and ourselves. 
> 
> Chag Pesach sameach, and may your prunes be effective.

_Step on a crack and you’ll break your mother’s back-_ Teddy winced and closed the bedroom window, muffling the sounds of the kids playing outside. He ran his fingers through his hair and shook it into place, trying to jostle loose the sudden bad mood at the same time. He stared at himself in the mirror and shifted around, just for the hell of it. Hulkling-green, Kree-blue, he could show up to this fancy dinner thing looking like Taylor Lautner, if he wanted, and see how long it would take before anyone said anything.

He wasn’t feeling it. Teddy shifted back to his usual self, relaxing into the same old familiar skin. Everything was the same, except nothing was. He was hanging out and messing around with his powers in his bedroom, except it wasn’t his own bedroom anymore.

Heck, the Kaplan apartment wasn’t even entirely Billy’s anymore, not the one he was used to, after two moves in as many years. But at least things seemed to have settled in to a holding pattern for now. And spring was here, the sky blue outside, and buds opening on the trees.

He stopped, tried to take a moment to breathe in and enjoy it, settle his brain and his heart all in one.

Tommy didn’t bother knocking, just burst into the room in a swoosh of air, the door slamming before Teddy even realized it had been opened. “You’re going to this thing?” Tommy asked, the words tumbling out one after the other. He stopped, slowed down visibly, and tried again. “We don’t have to, you know. It’s not like we’re family. Or even Jewish. Let’s go. Cuba’s good this time of year. Or Tahiti. Chill on the beach instead of pretending to have fun.”

It was the most Tommy had said to him in a while, if you counted by words rather than the amount of time it took to say it. And the suggestion was tempting. Right? He’d never met half of these cousins and aunts and uncles before, and there were definitely going to be questions he wasn’t going to feel like answering.

Except- “I can’t,” Teddy sighed. “I promised Billy.”  

“Sucker.” Tommy made a face. “I’d say the dick can’t be that good, but then _I’m_ -“

“Stop talking right now.”

The door slammed open again, much slower this time, and Teddy half-expected either Billy or his mother to be on the other side. It was Aaron this time, the middle Kaplan, fourteen and snarky, and he barely grunted a hello at them before he started digging through some of the storage boxes in the bottom of the spare room’s shared closet.

“Get the New Union haggadahs.” Mrs. Kaplan paused in the hallway outside the room, halfway through fixing her earrings. “If they’re not in that box, try the one underneath. Joanna never has enough, and I’m not sitting through another seder with mismatched red-and-yellows in six different translations.” Orders given, she looked Teddy and Tommy up and down, coming into the room and fussing with Teddy’s shirt collar. He stayed still and let her, something weirdly familiar and comforting in the gesture. She’d never done that to him before, though he’d seen her chasing after Billy and his brothers to fix top buttons or pick off a bit of lint or a thread. He’d put it down to the anal-retentive neatness that Billy was always muttering about under his breath but... it wasn’t. Now the focus of her attention, Teddy got it. The fondness in her smile was sad at the same time, and he got it. 

“There,” Mrs. Kaplan said after a moment of fussing. “Thomas-“

“I’m good,” Tommy backed off half a step, and Mrs. Kaplan’s kind smile didn’t change, but something sadder moved into her eyes and Teddy fought the urge to hug her.

She wasn’t his mom, would never be, but she was trying.

“You both look lovely,” she course-corrected without another word. “Come to the front door, we’re leaving in a moment.”

“Mom?” Billy appeared around the corner, looking harried. “Something weird is happening with the soup.”

“Weird-normal,” she asked, following him quickly, “or weird- _weird_? Because I’ve called for a moratorium on weird- _weird_ this week.”

“Good luck with that,” Aaron muttered, and pushed a stack of books at Teddy. “Here; take these. We’ve gotta go.”

“I like him,” Tommy announced after the kid had left, a cloud of Axe and irritation left behind in his wake. “He’s just the right amount of angry and bitter for fourteen.”  

Teddy wasn’t even going to dignify that one with an answer. It wasn’t that he didn’t _like_ Tommy – he mostly did, and not entirely for Billy’s sake. But right now he didn’t feel like fighting. He did manage to slip up behind Billy and rest his hand on the small of Billy’s back for a moment, unseen, Billy’s skin warm beneath the thin cotton of his dress shirt.

Billy leaned back into his hand, his neatly-combed hair already starting to drift over his eyes. “I hate wearing ties.”

“It looks good on you, if that helps,” Teddy offered, and the smile that tugged at the corners of Billy’s mouth got him smiling in return.

“Daaaaaad, they’re being gross again.”

“Shut up, Jacob.”

“You shut up.”

Mrs Kaplan appeared from the kitchen, wiping her hands off on a towel as she came. “The soup’s cooling on the stove. It’ll be fine for the next few hours.”

“We’re not taking it with us?” Billy frowned. 

She shook her head. “It’s for tomorrow. Aunt Joanne’s keeping a kosher kitchen now, so we can’t bring anything homemade.”

“Since when?”

“Since last year, dipshit, but you missed most of that while you were sulking.” Aaron sneered, and Billy whipped around, making like he was going to tackle the little creep. Teddy braced, just in case one or the other of them did something dumb, but Billy’s parents got there first.

“All of you, out the door.” Mr. Kaplan opened it and pointed to the hallway. “And remember, this is a family occasion. So behave.”

“Hey dad,” Aaron shoved his feet into ratty running shoes and gave Tommy a fierce glare. “Has anyone thought about what we’re gonna tell our _normal_ family about that-?” he gestured between Billy and Tommy.  “’Cause they’re gonna notice.”

“I’ve already spoken to Joanne and Mike,” Mrs. Kaplan said firmly, and ushered them firmly out of the apartment door, locking it behind them. “All that anyone needs to know is that Theodore and Thomas are staying with us for now, that we consider them family, and-“

“And to keep Great-Aunt Doris far, far away.” Mr. Kaplan spoke over her, she sighed and rolled her eyes, and no-one bothered to explain to either Teddy or Tommy exactly what the joke was there.

“Who is Doris?” Teddy asked Billy as the group made its way down the hall.

“She’s our...” Billy frowned, his brow furrowing.  “She’s Aunt Joanne’s... no, Uncle Mike’s...” he trailed off again. “She’s old,” he gave up. “And her brain to mouth filter died somewhere during the Cold War. But if we’re still stuck down at the kids’ table, we can avoid the inquisition altogether.”

Teddy laughed out loud at the thought of the three of them shoved around some little plastic bench. “Kids’ table? Are you kidding?”

“No, unfortunately.” Billy sighed, falling in easy step between Teddy and Tommy. “If you’ve ever considered praying, especially for some kind of emergency that would take us into, like, deep space for a couple of days, now would be the time to start.”

\--

Jeff Kaplan’s sister and her family lived in one of those pretty houses that could only exist outside of the downtown core of New York, with open rooms and a yard in the front —and by the time Teddy, Tommy and the rest of Billy’s nuclear family got there, the place was already packed and noisy.

They were greeted as soon as they walked in, Billy’s parents ushered off somewhere with kisses on the cheeks and a “well _hello_ Rebecca dear! And Jeff, you look well!” from one of a set of older men and women who were probably uncles, or maybe even great-uncles and aunts. Whoever they were, there were a lot of them and Teddy, used to holidays ( _which hadn’t even been his, now that he knew where he really came from_ ) with just himself and his mother, took a moment’s pause at the door to get his bearings.

A long table cut the large living room in half, obviously cobbled together from a main dining table, some kind of collapsible table and a couple of small card tables near the end. Long white tablecloths mostly merged them into one long thing, a wide assortment of chairs running down both sides. The smallest table at the end rounded the corner and was set with brightly coloured plastic plates, which Teddy fervently hoped were meant for the couple of preschoolers thundering up and down the stairs.

The table was fully set, bottles of wine and grape juice every so often, and a pair of candles in the middle already lit. Two big round plates carefully set with an odd assortment of things sat on the table, one at each end, and the smells coming out of the kitchen were enough to set Teddy’s stomach grumbling despite the hamburger he’d inhaled on the way home from school.

“Don’t get your hopes up,” a girl’s voice said behind him. “Dinner won’t be until next week, if it’s like last year. Hey there, little dude.” Teddy did turn at that, but the girl was talking to Billy, and the shape of her face and the dark brown of her eyes marked her as a Kaplan, sure as anything.

“I’ve been taller than you for years,” Billy scoffed, but he hugged her anyway. “Viv, Teddy, Teddy, my cousin Aviva. Her mom is dad’s sister. And she’s an enormous pain in the ass.”

“I do my best. It’s, like, family tradition.”  There was something about Viv that reminded Teddy of Gert, and then Billy by extension, a knowing look in her eye, the kind that could turn to sarcastic humour or wary defensiveness on a dime. She was probably closer to Kate’s age than theirs, and the edge of a tattoo that he could see peeking out from under her sleeve looked totally at odds with the long skirt and sweater set look that she had otherwise.

“Hi,” Teddy offered, and held out his hand out of sheer force of habit. Jeff and Rebecca seemed to like him well enough, but this was the extended family and he’d never been that good with those. “I’m-“

“Billy’s shockingly significant other?” Viv supplied with a grin, and Billy winced behind her.

“What did mom and dad _tell_ you?”

“Just that they’re very proud of you for having the courage to be honest.” She patted Billy’s shoulder affectionately, and with not a small hint of condescension, and he sighed.

“So, everything?”

“Pretty much.”

“Kill me now.”

Not that Teddy had any idea what ‘everything’ meant in this case, but the cousin-shorthand seemed to mean something to Billy, so he tucked it away as something to ask about later.

“Did you bring a girlfriend?” Billy clasped his hands in front of him like he was pleading. “Or a drug dealer? A biker? Someone to take the heat off.”

“I’ve got one better,” she snorted. “You weren’t here last year to see the descent into madness, but Gabi went frum. He’s going to yeshiva now.”

“Wait, hang on-“ Teddy did interrupt, because now that they were slipping into some kind of actual coded messages, he was very out of the loop. “Who went what?”

“My brother,” Aviva explained, heading across the living room. They trailed after her, and Teddy briefly caught sight of Tommy, standing at the base of the stairs and chatting with a trip of small children who had somehow found him and latched on. “He moved up to the Heights, of all places, and Got Religion. It’s ugly. He keeps trying to convince me to meet up with his rebbetzin to discuss Orthodox theology.”

She grabbed a fistful of grapes from the fruit bowl and pitched one in Teddy’s direction. He caught it automatically and she raised an eyebrow at the pair of them. “I’ll give you $20 if you can give him an aneurism by the end of the evening.”

“I dunno,” Teddy said slowly, but Billy jumped right on in.

“Make it thirty and I won’t rat you out for swapping wine for your grape juice for the second cup on.”

“Deal.”

“Aviva!” One of the older women bustled up toward them. “Oh hello, Billy! You’ve grown since we last saw you! What a handsome young man you’ve become.” And honest to God, she patted his cheek and looked like she was about to pinch him to boot. Billy turned bright red and Teddy only snickered a little. “Aviva, your mother needs you in the kitchen.”

“Why can’t Gabi help?” Viv complained, but then she rolled her eyes without waiting for an answer. “I know, he’s _studying_. Whatever. His obsolete gender policies are going to get his ass kicked. By me.” She vanished through the door, the aunt behind her.

Alone for the moment, a brief respite in the center of the preparations swirling around them, Teddy let out a slow breath.

Introductions to more relatives followed, though there was no way he was going to remember anyone’s name without a spreadsheet, or maybe a flowchart, but by the time Teddy and Tommy had been wrangled into meeting and exchanging a couple of words with almost everybody, Teddy figured he’d counted about twenty-five people, all told, some of them more obviously related to the Kaplan genotype than others.

“Halachically, there is no allowance given for extra items on the seder plate!” A young man Teddy hadn’t seen before came through the door, white dress shirt buttoned up tight and a kippah firmly on his head. “It’s letting modern political outrage interfere with a sacred ritual!”

“There’s nothing _sacred_ about the seder plate,” Viv was arguing back, following him from the hallway. “And if you think that a tradition made up in the middle ages is somehow _holy_ because it’s old, then you’ve missed the point. It’s about _symbols._ ”

“Here they go again,” one of the uncles sighed and moved to intercept.

Gabi pushed his glasses up on his nose and looked down at his younger sister. “Who’s leading the seder, you or me?”

“Uncle Max, technically. And for the record, I’m counted in the minyan.”

“You can’t count,” Gabi argued back, his colour rising. “You’re a _girl._ ”

“And the rest of us are Reform, dumbass. Women can make a minyan just as well as-“

“Enough!” Max swooped in on them and ushered the bickering pair outside, just as Billy’s dad started to uncork the bottles of wine in the table and begin pouring.

Billy grabbed his hand. “I can zap us up an emergency,” he suggested quietly, and he probably wasn’t serious. Probably. “Something small, easy, but enough to get called in by the Avengers. Or... or... I could create duplicates of us and...”

“Slow down there, tiger,” Teddy teased, and squeezed Billy’s hand. “They’ve been nice so far, and to be honest, it’s kind of interesting. It explains so much about why you are the way you are.”

Billy narrowed his eyes at Teddy suspiciously, and Teddy put on his best Innocent Look. “In a good way,” he nodded sagely.

“Mm-hm. If you’re still thinking that by the end of this debacle, I’ll pay _you_ that thirty bucks.”

Teddy snickered again, but he’d mostly meant it. There was a warmth in the air that wasn’t all about the temperature from the kitchen, the art and shelves of books along the walls, the cheerful cocktail party sort of buzz of conversation, that soothed something deep inside. “I’ve never known what it’s like to have a big family,” he shrugged. “It’s nice. So far.”

“Sit, everyone, sit down,” Billy’s Aunt Esther came sweeping through the room, her bracelets jangling and the beads on her glasses chain clinking together merrily. She tinkled like a windchime whenever she moved. “The children are getting restless, and I’m starving. Let’s begin.”

Behind her, Billy’s mom slipped in and quietly set an orange on the plate that Viv and Gabi had been arguing about. She took her seat, looking rather smug.

_I have entered the twilight zone._

\--

Teddy ended up seated on one side of Billy, Tommy on the other. Aaron and Jacob had been relegated down to the end by the kids’ table, some of the littler cousins busy driving them crazy. And across the table, down one seat, was an old cadaver of a lady who had to be the Infamous Great Aunt Doris.

She seemed alright, if mostly deaf, her white hair pulled back into a bun and a large sparkling brooch pinned to the lapel of her bright teal suit. Billy’s Uncle Max had settled her into the chair with reverence, freshening her ice water, and getting her pillows. A slightly-less-ancient woman sat beside her (Cindy? He had the vague feeling that her name was Cindy), and her job seemed to be repeating everything that everyone else said, but louder.

It went something like that all through the pre-seder shuffling around, people swapping seats and handing out the books that Aaron had brought from the Kaplans’ place.

“Have we figured out who Doris is, yet?” Teddy asked quietly, glancing through the book in his hands.

Billy took it from him, turned it upside down and backwards so that he was looking at the back-cover-which-was-the-front-cover, and nodded. “She’s Uncle David’s first wife’s great-aunt. Which makes her... my great-great former-aunt-in-law? She’s been coming to the seders as long as I can remember, and I guess she just never stopped.”

Doris looked the three of them over with a squint through the lower half of her glasses. She leaned over to Cindy and her gnarled old fingers tugged at Cindy’s blouse sleeve. “Ask Billy if he’s got a girlfriend yet. He’s such a nice boy.”

Teddy felt rather than heard the heavy sigh beside him. “I don’t have a girlfriend, Aunt Doris.”

“He said he doesn’t have a girlfriend.”

“No?”

Cindy shook her head, and repeated, “no, no girlfriend.” She did glance at Billy and Teddy in turn, as though gauging what to say.

Tommy’s snicker on Billy’s other side was not at all subtle, and he actually leaned in on his elbows with a grin plastered on, watching the exchange. 

“Fuck it,” Teddy heard Billy mutter under his breath beside him. “I’ve got a boyfriend,” Billy said, loudly, and some of the noise around the table stopped. No-one looked about to throw them out, which was very good, but Billy’s parents looked about ready to take out anyone who was going to try.

They wouldn’t be any good in a fight against a supervillain, but Teddy was suddenly glad to have them on his side.

Cindy didn’t bat an eyelash. “He says he’s got a boyfriend, Doris.”

“A boyfriend?” Doris’s voice rose, and Viv paused behind her chair. It was one of those moments where a record would screech, if this were a tv show, the world stopping for a moment as it waited for the elderly matriarch’s reaction.

Doris harrumphed, then nodded. “Good for you, Billy. That kind of thing runs in the family, you know. My Allan was a faygeleh too. He used to take me out to all the nightclubs to meet his friends. Such nice boys. Very good dancers.”

“Oh my God,” Viv breathed out, a gleeful smile spreading. “Aunt Doris, were you a _fag-hag_?”

“Aviva! Language!” Aunt Joanne shook her finger at Aviva, who seemed happy not to give a shit.

“You know,” Tommy said, kicking back and surveying the chaos with a broad grin, “I’m starting to like this whole ‘family dinner’ thing. Feels nice and familiar.”

Things settled down in short order, and Teddy leafed through the book—the haggadah, it said on the front—that laid out the order of the evening. Dinner was on the table of contents, thankfully, step ten in a fourteen-stage process. How long were each of the sections? Were they actually going to be here all night before food happened?

The chair on Teddy’s other side pulled back, and Aaron dropped down into it. “I’m escaping from the kiddie jail,” he reported, and set a small bowl down in front of him. It held slices of something, round white-cream coloured bits that looked like some kind of root vegetable? Parsnips?

“Join us,” Teddy offered, and met Aaron’s irritated expression with a half-smile. He couldn’t help but understand a bit. Billy’s brothers hadn’t asked for any of the things that had dropped into their laps over the last year. Billy, Teddy, Tommy—they’d all gotten something out of being Young Avengers, even if it had just been scratching that itch to _do something_. All the Kaplans had gotten was a broken house, Billy with chronic depression, and two strangers taking up their spare room. “Hey – I know this year has been weird, and for everyone. I just wanted-“

“Have you ever had chrayne before?” Aaron asked, pushing the dish toward Teddy. His eyes had taken on a predatory kind of gleam.

“This stuff?” Teddy picked up a round and sniffed it. “It’s horseradish, isn’t it?”

“For the bitter herbs. But if you’ve only had it grated before, be careful. This stuff will send your sinuses into near earth orbit.”

Teddy turned the piece over in his hand. It had a texture kind of like an eraser, and looked totally innocuous. “Isn’t the jarred version mixed with vinegar and stuff to make it spicier? How bad can this be?”

“Bet I can eat more than you.”

Teddy glanced to his other side, but Billy and Tommy were busy bickering about something, while Billy’s cousin was lecturing from across the table. He wasn’t about to get any help from that direction.  Fine. He’d play along. He wasn’t exactly sure what too much horseradish would do to him, but he was pretty sure it wouldn’t be fatal.

Teddy bit down. It wasn’t bad at all at first, a kind of generic peppery kind of taste, just like the stuff in a jar that was good on roast beef. It didn’t stop there, though, the peppery-hot growing and spreading through his mouth, sending a blast of pepper-fumes up through the back of his nose. Aaron jammed two pieces into his mouth, then three, chewing and looking superior, so of course Teddy had no choice but to do the same.

Four pieces in, his mouth on fire, his eyes streaming, and Aaron grinning at him with his cheeks full of Satan’s Root, Teddy grabbed for the nearest glass and chugged it back to try and soothe the burn.

The sour bite of wine (not juice, crap) hit him overtop of the horseradish’s sting, and sending his eyes crossed from the pungent tastes. “Ugh! That’s awful. Why is this so strong?”

“Never go in with a Jew when death is on the line,” Aaron replied, his eyes bright and watering in the corners, but he didn’t show any other signs of the kind of fumigating agony that was actually triggering the familiar and welcome tingle of Teddy’s healing factor.

It was only a tiny bit humiliating to be bested by a fourteen year old twerp with an attitude problem.

“Four glasses,” Tommy was repeating, and Teddy turned to listen in. “Both nights?”

“It’s symbolic.” Billy was eyeing one of the wine bottles, but reached for the grape juice instead. Teddy squeezed Billy’s thigh under the table. Not that Billy had ever really been interested in drinking before, but after the last year, another depressant in his system was exactly the thing he didn’t need. Teddy head buzzed a bit already, and he breathed out heat. “Not about getting drunk with your parents.”

“Yeah.” Tommy muttered and he’d deflated somehow, the wind out of his sails for an instant. 

“Watch out and don’t let the little kids near your glasses if you go for the wine, boys.” Billy’s aunt Esther, she of the jangling bracelets, told them as she leaned down from her seat a few spaces up the long table. “Do you remember that one time, Billy?”

“Oh no.” Billy’s face went red. “Not this story again.”

Tommy leaned forward with barely concealed delight. “Tell me more, Aunt Esther.”

“It was a seder at your Great-Uncle Maury’s house, and you would have been, oh goodness. You wouldn’t have been more than eight, because Jacob was still a baby. Anyway,” she continued, delighted in a new audience, “we weren’t paying enough attention to him—he’d been such a quiet little lamb—and Billy went around the table finishing off everyone’s almost-empty glasses of wine. We only realized it when he passed out during dinner, face-first into his mashed potatoes.”

She mimed his topple and fall with one hand, and Billy slumped down in his chair. “My first hangover,” he mourned openly. “That sucked.”

Teddy could see it, the little boy who probably —he looked around the table and found Jacob, chattering away with one of his younger cousins, dark hair and dark eyes, and Jeff’s sturdy square jaw.

(It was so unlike Billy’s angular looks; there was something vaguely elfin or eerie about Billy’s beauty sometimes, like he was otherworldly somehow. His brothers didn’t have that at all. Tommy did once in a blue moon, usually just after he’d been using his powers.)

“I bet you were a cute kid,” Teddy teased, because that train of thought was weird when he was surrounded by Billy’s real family. No, his birth family, but they were still his actual family, even though Wanda was something else special again...

No. This was the one place and time when he didn’t have to try and think about the Scarlet Witch, or the Skrulls, or anything at all except being normal kids, doing normal kid-and-family things.

Like horseradish eating contests and wine-stealing, and the pressure of Billy’s hand, warm and solid against his.

“Sure, when he wasn’t blitzed,” Tommy cracked up.

“I was _eight_ , and it was an _accident,_ unlike some juvenile delinquents I could name.”

“Start on page four.” Uncle Max started to talk and Teddy flipped his book open —first the wrong way again, and then the right way, before Billy had to help him find it. No, right now his biggest problem of all was going to be following along if and when they did any of the songs or discussions in Hebrew instead of English.

It was nice, just once, to have regular problems instead of Hulk-sized ones. It would probably get boring one day, but for right now, it was right.

\--

Billy had started the first seder all wound up tight inside, his nerves on high alert. Something was going to go wrong, so worse—everything was going to be fine, but boring, and all of the assorted relations and friends-of-relations were going to look at him with pity, or with blame, because they all knew. How could they not? Viv had said that his parents had told her parents everything, but he could only assume that meant shit like his breakdown, and Teddy’s mom dying, not.... superhero stuff.

He’d underestimated, though, or maybe overestimated how much they’d care, because after the first few minutes in Aunt Joanne and Uncle Mike’s living room, looking at all the old familiar faces (some older than others), he was feeling better. Not _better_ , not like he’d half-hoped would happen once he started taking the pills that were supposed to fix his brain, but familiar. Like well-worn, comfortable tracks that he could move through without thinking, without worrying about what to do next.

The order of the seder was all set out, after all, the pieces and the text the same as the ever were. And it was family, so even the arguments were basically the same, Gabi and Viv, Uncle Max and Aunt Esther poking snidely at each other, Aunt Joanne sneaking out the back door to smoke when she thought no-one was paying attention.

The only wild cards here were Teddy and Tommy, and even that was going better than he’d feared. Teddy actually looked like he was enjoying himself, chatting away with Uncle Mike, because he was amazing like that. Seriously, the guy could make friends with anyone, just by smiling, and why couldn’t Billy be charming like that?

“...well, _actually,_ the principle behind avoiding gebrochts is-“ Gabi’s voice cut in.

“What’s he saying?” Doris asked loudly.

“He says that there’s a _principle_ behind not eating wet matzah,” Cindy repeated into Doris’s ear. 

“Listen to him,” Aunt Doris snorted. “One year at yeshiva and he thinks he’s a scholar. Go on, Rabbi.”

Because Billy came from a long line of sarcastic know-it-alls, that was why. But even that had something comforting in it, that settled deep into his bones.

“Urchatz,” Uncle Max announced. “Anyone who’s washing, go wash, without the blessing.” Billy stood automatically, joining the others heading for the kitchen. The old two-handled silver jug sat in the sink like it always did for the seders, the engraved designs on the handles worn partly smooth from generations of handling.

Billy picked it up when it was his turn in line, the silver cool under his fingers. He couldn’t remember the blessing—they never did this one at home—but he didn’t need it this time anyway. He ran his thumbs over the scrollwork designs instead, as he poured the crystal clear and cool water over his hands.

Left hand, right hand-

The jug had been one of the few precious things Bubbe Rose’s parents had been able to save when their town had come under attack from pogroms, back before the war.

Left hand, right hand.

Zaide Lou had packed as many things as he could into a trunk, hoping to use the silver to pay for himself and his young bride to get transport out of Europe, find their way to somewhere safe.

They’d sold everything in bits and pieces along the way, a handful of silver forks and knives, any jewellery, even their wedding rings, or so the family story went. Once they’d landed in the USA, finally safe, they’d had only two pieces left. The jug, and a siddur that Bubbe Rose had stashed in her trunk, protected from the wind and the ocean.

And they’d been alive. That made the Kaplan family the third thing that had survived, against all odds.

Left hand, right hand.

Three and three. And three. Billy set the jug down and dried his hands off on his pants, ducking his head to avoid his mother’s glare.

The Kaplans hadn’t arrived with much, but they’d made good in a place where the odds were still against them.

_And here he was again, different again, making their lives harder again._

Teddy’s hand squeezed his again, still resting on his thigh beneath the table. “Everything okay?” he asked quietly, because he could tell when Billy’s moods shifted. He always seemed to know.

“I’m good.” Billy squeezed back.

No- here he was again, taking his seat at the seder table, beside his boyfriend —his _fiancé—_ keeping the old traditions alive, because they had survived as well — the civil war, the Skrull invasions, even Victor von Doom and Billy’s stupid, hasty decision-making that had led to so much other tragedy.  Teddy still sat beside him, and still found something in him worth loving.

There was an orange sitting on the seder plate, a new symbol if he’d ever seen one, making sure he knew he was at home.

“Carpas,” said Uncle Max. “Green vegetable. Pass around the plates, everyone take a piece of celery, and dip it in the salt water.”

“Is this the equivalent of gruel?” Tommy asked sarcastically, and Billy kicked him under the table.

“Just wait until we hit matzah and maror,” Viv shot back, and Tommy grinned at the reaction. “Your intestines will wish they’d never been born.”

“Aviva, language!”

“Okay, what? ‘Intestines’ is not a bad word.”

“It is at the dinner table.”

“I remember this taking forever to get to when I was little,” Billy said, passing the plate of celery along to Teddy, who took two.

Aunt Esther nodded. “It did, dear. Your zaide was the only man I knew who could make kaddesh last half an hour.”

“Half an hour?” Doris repeated, cupping her hand to her ear.

“Lou could make it last half an hour,” Cindy repeated loudly. Billy looked up at her and there was something in her grin-

“I always knew he had it in him,” Doris replied at the top of her voice. “Nice strong man like that.”

Uncle Max started coughing, and Aunt Joanne smacked him on the back, hard enough to dislodge his glasses and send them into the salt water bowl. Viv started laughing, Gabi turned red, and Billy’s _mother’s_ shoulders were shaking like she was desperately trying to contain giggles.

The little kids didn’t seem to notice much, but when Billy turned to look, Tommy and Aaron were deep in conversation, and the bottle of wine closest to that end of the table had ‘mysteriously’ dropped in level by about two glasses-worth.

Cindy’s lip twitched up at the corner.

_She does that on purpose._

Doris settled back in her chair, a pleased smile on her face.  She glanced over, seemed to catch Billy looking at her, and she slowly closed one eye in a wink.

\--

“Are you boys going to help them look?” Uncle Max leaned back in his char and folded his hands over his stomach, the table filled now with crumbs and half-empty dishes.

A little rush of air signalled that something had happened, but Tommy was still (or back?) in his seat, looking bored.

“I’m seventeen,” Billy objected. “I’m a little old to go hunting for the afikoman.”

“Unless the bribe is up again this year,” Viv added. “Five bucks isn’t worth it, but I’ll do it for get-out-of-doing-dishes voucher.”

“You know we can’t go on with the seder until _someone_ finds it, and the little ones don’t seem to be having too much luck.”

That same familiar little breezelet whipped by him again, and the curtain twitched. Tommy shifted in his seat at the same time and looked utterly innocent. Jacob pulled back the curtain and his face fell. “It’s not here, either!”

“That’s strange-“ Billy’s dad muttered. “I could have sworn I hid it in the bookcase.” He looked sharply at Billy, and Billy, for once, could put his hands up and avow total innocence.

“Where is it now?” Teddy whispered behind him.

“Kitchen,” Tommy replied just as quietly. “Give ‘em another minute and I’ll bring it back. Gotta make the adults good and nervous first.”

\--

Billy didn’t sing. He claimed it was leftover trauma from having his voice break during his bar mitzvah, but generally speaking it was one of those things that he didn’t do. But a couple of glasses of wine in, courtesy of Viv, and the grace after meals in full swing —one of the few things he actually really knew well in Hebrew, thanks to lots of seders with the more religious end of his family—and he was feeling happy and mostly past the point of caring.

Also... _give you thirty bucks—_ Viv had offered, and he hadn’t done nearly enough yet to make Gabi lose his mind. Birkat hamazon held so many opportunities to make up for lost time.

The actions and fill-in-the-gap lyrics that had evolved over years of Hebrew school and camp culture weren’t nearly as offensive as the ‘mony mony /hey motherfucker’ thing at school dances, but they’d be sacrilegious enough an interruption to have some fun with his sanctimoniously pious older cousin. 

So when Max started off with ‘rabotai nevorech,’ Billy joined in the callback, the words as easy and familiar as anything else left in his brain from Hebrew school or years past.

Teddy’s eyebrows went up at the sound of Billy’s voice, and he sent Billy one of those beaming smiles that made him feel like the bright centre of the world, which made it even easier not to be self-conscious for once.

His surprised approval didn’t last all that long, though — the first time Billy inserted _“sour cream”_ into a momentary pause between the Hebrew words Teddy blinked at him in confusion. Viv snickered, Gabi scowled, and the adults all pretended they hadn’t heard anything. Aaron and Jacob, on the other hand, glanced over at him and for a moment, Billy almost thought he could see something like respect in Aaron’s eyes. It went away quickly, but it was nice while it lasted.

_Being a superhero makes him angry, but being a shit-disturber at the seder makes him like me. He’s more like Tommy than I am._

Viv went in with him on the next cue, sotto voce but loud enough for Gabi still to hear. “Ki l’olam hasdo – _no, we don’t keep kosher_ -”

By the time they hit “l’echol b’riotav – _I swear I saw her bra_ -” the vein was throbbing in Gabi’s jaw, and Billy was actively getting the finger-across-the-throat sign from his _father_ that meant if he would be in deep, deep shit if he kept it up.

That was fine; Viv was grinning and nodding at him, and that was that last of the insert lines that he knew anyway. Billy settled back in his chair and let the rest of the familiar refrains wash over him. For once, maybe the first time in the past couple of years of crazy, the world felt steady and secure beneath him.

\--

Even steady and secure didn’t fix everything, though, and somewhere in the middle of the halel prayers, Billy’s skin felt too tight. All the noise seemed to echo off the walls of the living room until he needed to breathe, and couldn’t find air.

He mumbled an excuse and slipped out of the room, heading for the back door. The sun had set ages ago, the night sky dark, with that horizon-glow of the city lights all around the edges. He braced his arms on the porch railing and breathed in the chill spring air, trying to let the cold settle his twitchy nerves.

Things were better now than they had been even a month ago, the world brighter and less confusing, the grief and guilt muted to a dull throb in the back of his head. How much of that was from the meds he’d agreed to try, and how much was because he’d done what Teddy had asked, gotten off the windowsill and started to put his life back in order?

He’d been worried about the antidepressants doing something to his powers, but they didn’t seem to be affected—for better or for worse. It would have been a good excuse to stop doing stupid things, if just one day ... he couldn’t. Billy frowned and concentrated on his palm in the dark. Blue sparks materialized with just a little _push_ , crackling up and down his fingers one at a time.

The door opened behind him and Billy closed his fist, letting go of the thread that pulled his power to him. The sparks vanished immediately and he turned, expecting to see Teddy. It wasn’t him. Gabi let the door close and stepped in beside Billy, leaning his elbows on the railing as well.

It was weird to see him like this, all buttoned up, with a kippah on his head and his expression all serious and grown-up. He’d been their ringleader for years, the oldest of the cousins and the one who had come up with all of the crazy ideas. The rope swing from the second floor window had been his idea, as had the dry ice rocket bombs, and the attempt to pierce his own ear with a safety pin.

And now he had gone full-Orthodox, with all of the strict rules to follow. And they generally weren’t so good with queer rights. Was that what he had come out to talk about? Trying to get Billy to give up his “lifestyle” and become a good religious Jew?

It was hard to believe that, looking at him in the moonlight. Out here, he just looked like the same old Gabi, with the scar on his eyebrow and the frown-furrow between his eyebrows. The glasses were new, making him look more serious than he had ever been, back then.

“I hear you’ve had a rough year,” he said, turning his head to look at Billy. There was sympathy in his smile, and Billy stumbled over what to say in return.

“Yeah,” he agreed after a second, because he didn’t have any better words. Not after wine had made his head feel floaty. “A friend died, and I lost it for a while. Mom said it’s depression, so I guess that must be it.”

Leaving out all of the parts where time travel and Nate-gone-crazy had been involved made it sound so... logical. Explainable, almost.

“I know what that’s like,” Gabi said, throwing Billy for another loop. “Not the death—I’m really sorry to hear that—but the depression thing. It runs in the family, you know.”

_No, I didn’t, and am I really family anyway?_

It came to the heart of what he was struggling with, the knowledge that Billy wasn’t exactly, completely, _him_. Because part of him was some kind of migrated soul, or whatever, and nothing about any of it made sense.

“I didn’t know that.”

Gabi nodded. “Zaide Lou’s sister spent a couple of years in a sanatorium, back in the day. They called it something else back then, but it was basically the same. I went on meds for a while and it changed everything. That, and finding a better way to live my life.”

_Here it comes._

“If you’re going to try and get me to go ba’al t’shuvah, Gab, you’re wasting your time,” Billy said firmly. “You know I’m gay, right? Orthodox congregations really aren’t into people like me.” He braced himself for the argument, for the rejection and the popping of the safe little bubble he’d imagined surrounding them all tonight. His stomach got tight and sour anyway, his heart hurting.  

“I know, and that’s not what I meant. Teddy’s your boyfriend, right? I like him. He seems nice.”

And that was really not where Billy had thought this conversation was going. “He is nice,” he said rather than pick a fight, the pulse in his blood calming down. “He’s more than nice, he’s amazing.”

“Good.” At Billy’s obvious confusion, Gabi shook his head. His dark hair flopped out of the gel or crème or whatever he’d used to keep it neat, and he looked, for a moment, a bit like the face Billy saw in the mirror each morning. _Maybe I’m a little bit Kaplan somewhere inside._

“Whatever Viv might think, I’m not running blindly into some kind of cult,” Gabi spoke again, with a firmness in his voice that made it sound like he’d really thought about what he was saying. And that he believed it. “The sages teach us to question everything, not to take any rules for granted. And I can make up my own mind about right and wrong without having to agree with my teachers. Most of them can’t agree with each other half the time anyway. HaShem created and loves the world, and that includes you and Teddy too.”

_Technically I think I was created by Mephisto and the Scarlet Witch, but this seems like a bad time to mention that._

Gabi kept going with the speech he’d obviously partly prepared, and didn’t seem to notice Billy’s momentary flinch. “David and Jonathan are heroes in the Torah, and if they weren’t at least a little bit in love, I’ll eat my tallis.” Gabi poked Billy in the chest. “If you’re happy, I’m happy for you. And if he breaks your heart, I’ll take him out back and break his kneecaps for you.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Billy snorted, not a little proud. The relief washed over him and carried away the last of the tension that clawed at his spine, leaving peace behind. “Teddy’s a whole lot tougher than you think.”

“Ah,” Gabi said sagely, and he tapped the side of his nose. “But is he _Jewish_.” He sounded so much like Uncle Mike in that second that Billy almost bought the act, ready to argue back and defend Teddy, for all that they weren’t technically just interfaith but apparently inter _species_ -

Until he saw Gabi trying not to grin. So he punched Gabi in the shoulder instead and the moment of confession turned into a half-assed scuffle, which ended once he got Gabi in a headlock.

“When did you get muscles, you little shit?” Gabi laughed, pushing back until Billy let go.

“Last year sometime, I guess,” Billy shrugged. _Training with my superhero team_ both wasn’t even accurate anymore—RIP, Young Avengers—and wasn’t going to get the reaction that he needed right now. “’Healthy body-healthy mind’ apparently didn’t work so well.”

“You should come to Friday night services with me sometime,” Gabi offered, still teasing. Probably. “Or for shacharit, remember how to put on tefillin-“

 _I’ll pass_. It was on the tip on his tongue, the reflex to reject the olive branch, to stay far away from the side of his heritage that would probably reject everything he had turned out to be.

Except Gabi was living proof that it wouldn’t, at least not automatically. And then there was Magneto, and Wanda and Quicksilver, and his relationship with them, their relationships with faith...

_Who do I want to be? How can magic and Torah not cancel each other out—or two histories make up one person? What did Wanda do to make sense of everything, other than run away?_

_Running doesn’t work. You can’t run away from yourself. I tried._

_How will all these pieces ever fit?_

The questions were way too big for him. Somehow he couldn’t imagine the Talmud rabbis dealing with the kinds of things he’d already had to face. But right here, right now, his cousin was waiting for an answer, and he didn’t have to be anyone except _Billy_.

He still couldn’t envision himself hanging out with a bunch of yeshiva guys and having anything at all to talk about, but Billy stuck out his hand to Gabi in a gesture of peace. “I dunno. Maybe. Not now. But if you wanna grab a burger sometime, that would be cool. You choose the place, so it’ll be kosher enough.”

Gabi grabbed his hand, but instead of shaking it, used it to pull Billy into a kind of awkward hug. Billy stiffened in reflex, but after a moment relaxed into it. He let his cousin hold him up, tried to find the inner strength that Gabi seemed to radiate now, behind the pretentiousness and attempts to boss everyone else around.

“Okay, this is getting weird now.” Billy broke the hug first, letting go and pulling his sense of ironic distance back around himself. “We should go back in.”

“Just remember we’re here, alright?” Gabi said cryptically, and Billy cocked his head. “When you’re off doing whatever it is that you guys do that makes Aunt Rebecca and Uncle Jeff get so worried.”

How was Billy going to get out of this conversation without raising any suspicions? But Gabi kept talking, seemingly switching topics on a dime.

“And I know you’re not going to be thinking about this stuff yet—you’re what, sixteen?”

“Almost eighteen, thanks.”

“Whatever. But someday you will. I’m not going to be a Rabbi, I mean, not a proper congregational leader one, and I wouldn’t be able to perform a same sex wedding officially even if I was—but when you do get married, once you’re all grown up,” because apparently he _had_ to add that dig in there, just to keep Billy from being happy about the subject change. “I’ll be there. Even if it’s at city hall, instead of under a huppah. You’re still my dumbass little cousin, and I love you.”

“That was unexpectedly profound, Gabi.” And it sent a warm bubble of calm expanding inside Billy at the same time. “Maybe yeshiva’s been good for you.”

“I like to think it’s honed me into the fine figure of Jewish manhood that I am today.” Gabi pulled open the screen door and let Billy go inside first.

“Hey Gab,” Billy paused, struggling to choose his words before giving up. They headed up the hall toward the living room, light spilling out into the darker passageway, the sound of laughter and voices filling the space in between. “Thanks. And I love you guys, too.”

“So profound,” Gabi clutched at his heart and pretended to stagger. “Such eloquence.”

“Go choke on a macaroon.”

“If they’re from one of Cindy’s attempts at pesach baking, I just might.”

\--

Stumbling out into the dark at two in the morning was a lot better when it involved hugs and well-wishes instead of bad guys in tights. Billy didn’t bother hiding his grin when Tommy got enveloped in Aunt Esther’s tidal bosom and got his cheek patted. His heart grew three sizes when he turned and realized that Gabi had made his way over to Teddy, and had his hand companionably on Teddy’s shoulder.

_Will wonders never cease._

“Take care of yourself, dork.” Viv popped up under his arm and squeezed him around the waist.

“I will, I promise.” He hugged her back.

“So, Tommy,” she began, and something in her grin made him very wary. “We’re not, like, _actually_ related, right? He’s not your weird-ass genetic clone, or a long-lost cousin?”

Billy narrowed his eyes at her. “Why are you asking me this?”

“It’s the world we live in today, anything is possible.” Viv looked innocent, and it was the same expression that he used when he was trying to deflect or get away with something.

“Please tell me you didn’t-“

“Not yet,” Viv grinned wide. “I’m just trying to figure out if I can hit that.”

“You don’t find that entire concept intensely creepy?”

“You don’t look _that_ much alike.”

“-we’re practically-“

“For one thing, he’s actually attractive.”

 And he’d walked right into that one. Billy glared at her and she glared back, and for one last moment before they left for the night, everything fell into place and felt so right and safe and _normal_ that he almost cried with relief.

“If that’s your criteria, I can probably find you some more appropriate dates on the FBI’s ten most wanted list,” he suggested instead, and she poked her elbow lightly into his side.

“Come on, boys,” his dad called. Jacob stumbled along beside him, yawning and rubbing his eyes, and Aaron was already crashed out in the back seat of the taxi.

Teddy’s hand found his as they headed down the driveway, and Billy laced his fingers through Teddy’s in gratitude. Once they were packed into the back of the minivan cab, Billy let himself sag against Teddy’s shoulder, resting his head there on the broad expanse of muscle.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, as they pulled away from the curb.

“For what?” Teddy’s voice rumbled under Billy’s ear, comforting and familiar.

“For coming tonight. For convincing me not to bail.” He kept his voice quiet, so his parents wouldn’t hear over their own conversation in the seats in front of them. “It was good.”

“Yeah, it was. I had a good time. I had no idea you had such a nice voice, for one thing.” He was teasing, he had to be, warmth and laughter a soft ripple underneath his words.

Billy was too tired to tease him back, and accepted the compliment with a minimum of grumbling. “Yeah, sure. Whatever.”

He curled in closer and Teddy’s arm found its way around his waist, under the seatbelts and out of sight of the others. The streetlights flickered by outside as they passed through the quiet streets, and Billy felt the edges of sleep creeping in around the edges of his mind.

“You boys alright back there?”

He heard his father’s voice in the distance, but nothing that would make him open his eyes and leave the comforting warmth of Teddy’s arm, or lift his head from the pillow of Teddy’s shoulder.

“Fine, Mr. Kaplan. I think Billy’s asleep already.”

_Almost, not quite._

“He did that all the time when he was little,” his dad replied, his voice full of love. “We only had to drive around the block and he’d be asleep. Billy was the easiest baby. I remember this one time we’d rented a car to drive out to his grandparents’ summer place-”

He should react to that, should jump in to stop Dad from telling all his embarrassing baby stories, but Billy couldn’t summon the energy. He let the safe night rise up to fold around him, and slipped easily into sleep, surrounded by the people who loved him most in the world.

_\--_

_“All who are hungry, let them come and eat; all who are needy, let them come and celebrate Passover. Now we are here.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Rabbi Goldberg’s New Revised Edition Passover Haggadahs are the bane of everyone’s existence. Both for the ubiquity as well as the strange formatting choices, the weird font problems, and the constantly updated translations, leading to endless arguments around the table as to whether the line says “the Eternal” or not.  
> \--  
> People who keep strictly kosher rely on a series of labels and such on store-bought products to prove that the products were made in the appropriate manner, haven’t been cross-contaminated, and so forth. They also tend not to eat at people’s houses if they themselves don’t keep to a similar level. It doesn’t look in the comics like the Kaplans keep kosher, and Reform often don’t, so they can’t bring homemade food to this particular event.  
> \--  
> Rebbetzin – the Rabbi’s wife, plays the same basic outreach-and-service / community leadership roles as a minister’s wife. The traditional ones bake the most ridiculously delicious challahs and rugelach; the modern ones are more likely to organize women’s activism retreats and teach astrophysics.  
> (Please note that while ‘rebbetzin’ always denotes a female, rabbis are not necessarily male, and their relationships are not necessarily heterosexual. Many of the liberal streams now mandate support for female rabbinic ordination, and equal marriage. To date, however, I don’t know of a male version of ‘rebbetzin’ that has the same connotations.)  
> \--  
> To ‘go frum’ or ‘go ba’al tshuvah’ is to become more religiously observant within Judaism. There is a strong movement currently for children raised in Reform families (not particularly observant, generally) to join Orthodox and Ultra-Orthodox congregations. A family I grew up with has had all three of the kids go from basically secular to Ultra-Orthodox, and it’s been an interesting transition for the rest.  
> ‘Frum’ is a vaguely obnoxious term to refer to someone who is carefully observant of the legal aspects of Judaism. A ‘frummie’ is someone who happens to be more observant than the speaker, generally speaking, and is possibly a little sanctimonious about it (though not necessarily).  
> \--  
> The seder plate holds the various symbols that are important in the Passover seder. A movement within Judaism has taken up adding the orange onto the seder plate as a symbol for re-integrating differing segments of the Jewish community (women and queer Jews specifically) back into ritual spaces. It began with activist Susannah Heschel and has become common use within certain liberal households:  
> http://jwa.org/blog/he-orange-on-seder-plate-and-miriams-cup-foregrounding-women-at-your-seder  
> \--  
> Faygele (FAY-guh-luh) is a bad word. It technically means ‘little bird,’ but you know what it means here. Doris can get away with it because she’s 95 and doesn’t give a fuck. Don’t be like Doris.  
> \--  
> To hear the birkat, where Billy and Viv are being little shits, go here and scroll down to “Birkat Hamazon”, the second link in the second section.  
> http://www.sidduraudio.com/pesach.html  
> The usual interjections that I know are the following, in order:  
> After  
> "uvrachameem" insert "sour cream."  
> "ki l'olam hasdo," insert "no, we don't keep kosher."  
> the first "hagadol", insert “rock and roll”  
> after "lechol b'riotav", replace "asher bara" with "I swear I saw her bra."  
> Needless to say, these are all rude and disruptive, and if you do them and get called on it, you didn’t learn ‘em from me.  
> \--  
> Tefillin, kippahs and tallises are all ritual items worn by Jewish men (and some women) for various parts of religious services and events. Different groups have different customs surrounding who wears them when and for what purpose, but the basic rules are the same across the board.  
> http://www.myjewishlearning.com/article/kippah-tallit-and-tefilin-the-clothing-of-jewish-prayer/  
> \--


End file.
